Queen
by ugotthelove
Summary: The small Queen sat on her Grandmothers throne. A child at such a tender age would one day rule Cyclonia. The dark-haired man promised he would be forever loyal.
1. Prologue: Ruler

Author's Note: I've been wanting to do a Storm Hawk's story for ages, but just haven't thought of what to write about. So, I decided to write about the small Master Cyclonis and her early years before becoming the Empress. I hope you enjoy, this story will only be short and sweet. :)

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Queen

Prologue

Ruler

_Long live Cyclonia._

_Long live the Empire._

_Long live the Queen. _

The young raven-haired girl clung to her Grandmothers robe for comfort and warmth, looking over the balcony at the red-tinted view of her home, Cyclonia. It was dim unlike all the other Terras she had seen in her books, mountains that were once so tall had been shattered, making them pointed spikes and dangerous to even fly close to. The mountaintops stabbed through the thick grey clouds that rested on the banks of the Terra, below them was the Wastelands, the lowlands that stretched across the entire Atmos, inhabited with fire, lava and rock. Low rumbles of thunder could be heard, and every so often a flash of red would be seen, a lightening strike that would briefly light the dark atmosphere of the Terra.

In the center of the black rock thorns and peaks that wilted to the side was the main housing of the Terra, a royal palace where the child and old Empress stood from and stared out. The throne room was a dark chamber that was decorated with soft glows of white and red power crystals that lit the place ever so slightly, creating an ominous ambiance that was repeated throughout the entire rocky mountaintop tower. The colors red and green were draped over the walls, displaying the Terras enflamed symbol, a sharp cycle-like silhouette that represented fear and power to those who saw it.

"My dear," The silver-headed woman, clad in black, with the exception of dark purple velvet that rested on her shoulders gazed down at the small girl with a dry smile. Her aging golden eyes were kind and soft, for The Empress of Cyclonia it was a rare sight to see, as she would often carry a permanent scowl on her wrinkle covered face. A tongue that spat out words of venom, a dark look that showed malevolent intendancies, and a power so great that a single move out of line would leave one at her mercy.

She was Queen, and no one went against her wishes.

Failure wasn't an option, and whoever was unsuccessful in their tasks would spend time in the mines and workhouses that tended to the upkeep of the Terra. Backbreaking labor she thought was the main key to the success of the empire. For a icy Queen, and for one that acted so bitter, she was fair with all her army talons and commanders. On rare occasions she considered their position, took pity on their failures, and gave them second chances that a fool would not be grateful for. The Queen raised her silk-gloved hand, "You see this? This was your Great, Great, Great Grandfathers land, and through the generations it has been ruled over by a superior line of Emperors. Our family bloodline has always possessed such tremendous powers. You. The third upcoming female Queen shall take my place once I am gone. Do not show weakness; do not feel inferior because you are born a girl. You know, once I took the throne, they doubted me because your Father was one of the greatest rulers, and they didn't think I would live up to his name. They forget I bore your Father, and I was the one who taught him everything he knew."

A cough escaped the Empress's lips, a sign that the woman wasn't getting better from her illness. Time wasn't on her side, and the woman had started to become frail. Her silver hair blew in the oncoming storm winds, a sign that the talon squadrons and battle airships were on the return home from battle. The war was stretched over the entire Atmos, and many Cyclonian lives had been lost or imprisoned by the conflicting side.

"You see," The woman said smoothly, "This world is ours to conquer. Shall I tell you a story, my dear? Would you like that?"

The girl nodded innocently at her only living relative, gripping her robes even more, feeling the older woman's warmth against her own. The elder cleared her sore throat, watching the distance like a hawk, waiting for her loyal servants to arrive back from the warzone.

"Once upon a time," The Empress began, "Cyclonia controlled the entire Atmos. From Terra to Terra, we ruled the land and the skies. We made order, we created laws, and we build our towers and statues high. We raised our flag and stood proud on the land we called our home. But, the traitors rebelled against us, and their Knights were sent to ruin everything we built. They call them Sky Knights. Vicious, greedy, unlawful people who set out to destroy the rightful rulers of Atmos, they bear their emblem to us, in some fake justice they pretend to fight for."

The small child nodded, not quite understanding the term 'Sky Knight', but she continued to listen to the story, "These people began to fight with our hard-working and loyal citizens. Soon, the kingdom we created was destroyed, and we were forced to live in the darkest depths of Atmos. Now, we must fight for our rightful place in history. The Sky Knights must fall from the skies, their wings must be plucked clean, until they no longer can fly. The story continues to this very day."

With wonder the dark-haired girl pulled at the old Queen's clothes, "Does it have a happy ending?"

Her Grandmothers mouth split into a smile, looking over the skies and feeling the wind brush past her face. "We'll have to see, won't we?"

For a few more moments they stayed on the balcony, looking out into the distance where oncoming clouds had darkened and become more alive with thunder. The small child hadn't much experience beyond the Cyclonia border, she only knew of dark skies and clouds that circled the Terra like a menacing curse. The current Queen Cyclonis didn't like exposing her only Grandchild to the themes of war, death, battle and poverty, but she knew that she wouldn't be around forever, and there was no other possible heir to the thrown. She knew, that when the time came, the small child would be left alone in the world. A lone Queen on a throne, waiting the day Cyclonia would once again rule, at such a young age too.

The little Queen-to-be closed her lavender eyes, and leaned against her Grandmother sleepily. The crows that preached on the railings of the Terra began to screech ever so loudly, until they flapped their dirty wings and took flight into the sky, their feathers malting off their boney little bodies and floating gently back down. The Empress lifted her head, "Our warriors are back. My sweet, returned to your room."

"Yes, Ma," The little girl parted with her Grandmother, and walked back into the shadowy insides of the Terra, picking up her old rag doll that sat on the tile floor. The lightening struck again, a flash of red lit the sky for a fleeting moment, and caused the small child to run back to her room with fear of the loud noise.


	2. Chapter 1: Throne

Queen

Chapter 1

Throne

The war was at its peak; the sky was filled with falling Talon Switchblade's, which with less armor fell from the sky with a simple blast of crystal energy that came from their opponent's weapon. The biplane vehicles were provided with firearms and had an extensive frame equipped with a solid iron nose designed to withstand head-on collision with other sky-rides. Flashes of blue and red crossed from both sides of the skyline, one The Cyclonian Invasion Army, the other The Sky Knight Resistance Army. It had been an ambush, an unexpected attack on Cyclonian territory that soon developed into full-blown battle of the two sides.

Sky Knights against Cyclonia, the final battle that would put an end to the war that had reigned for hundreds of years.

Both rivals flew through the red-stained and lightning covered sky of Cyclonia, the Sky Knights displaying their blue emblems of their squadrons, their weapons and sky-rides powered by the long-lasting energy of the rare blue striker crystal. The army of talon fighters powered their engines and weapons with different varieties of the powerful red Firebolt crystal, which had come from the crystal mines and polluted the Cyclonian skies so much that the air became a dark haze of smoke. Any sky-ride that was shot down fell into the treacherous Wastelands below the clouds, if one was lucky enough to survive the battle and parachute down to the land of rock and fire, they would soon learn the Wasteland wouldn't be as merciful. Gigantic airships had been damaged so much that they gradually fell into the sharpened mountains, taking the lives of both competitors along with them to the depths of darkness.

The battlecry could have been heard from the other side of the Atmos, many men and woman fighting for their sense of righteousness.

The battle didn't scare the bold Empress of Cyclonia. She sat on her thrown and watched the battle through the glass window of her court, though they were losing, her empire wasn't going to go down easily. She gripped her stone thrown, her cruel eyes never leaving the downfall of her army, her colorless lips tight with rage. Under the wing of her robes sat the small infant that held her unattractive and old doll tightly, too scared to show her face and look at the battle outside the window.

The Sky Knights were closing in on the Terra, they had passed the barrier and flew with such speed that it would only be seconds before her home would be crashing down around her. She wouldn't run, she was too proud and would rather die than be a coward. Yes, she would rather die with her empire. Looking gently down at the shivering child that had laid on her lap she placed a cold hand upon her head, a loving gesture towards her cherished girl.

Cries and shouts of terror came from the frontline.

The woman gazed out the window, her eyebrows lowering at the halt of the invasion of the Sky Knights. With an abrupt blaze of red the sky was set alight with a dominant wave that obliterated the sky-rides and battleships of the enemies. The mighty pulse continued for miles, such energy and power came from what she knew to be a high-ranking Firebolt crystal, but the owner of it was unknown to her. She watched as the Atmos warriors resorted to their parachutes, floating further into the pits of lava, watching as their comrades and battleships crashed.

The most prominent ship was a carrier that she knew as the Condor, which had been engulfed in so much smoke from it's damaged engine. It too fell from the sky and into the fiery underbelly of Cyclonia, accompanied by crumpled skyrides that left a trail of smolder that gradually evaporated into the enflamed air. All Cyclonian battleships remained unharmed, along with the army of Talons that had uprose from their depression of losing the battle and shot down remaining sky-rides that attempted to retreat back into the clear skies. Without back-up or help from the fellow working man, the Sky Knights had failed their mission.

All hope of reviving Atmos had been destroyed, lost, completely obliterated into nothing but ashes. With the battle cries dying down, the open air soon became home to applause and victory songs that danced in the air from the Cyclonian champions.

The Sky Knights had lost.

Cyclonia had won.

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The Empress wore a cloak that unraveled down her skinny shoulders and buried her body beneath the expensive and fine material. A secondary silk-made shroud that fell down her back and forearms was decorated with jewel incrusted and gold charms, and on her head she wore a crown, a piece that was heavyily ornamented with rare and glossed stones. Around the back of her head, like a flower blooming in the summer was her hood that uncurled into a scarlet thorn mane, a cocoon that once open showed the face of the Master of Cyclonia. Her fingernails were like claws, painted finely with a dark color of lilac, and coiled over the arm of the stone throne with a hidden sentiment.

The victory was theirs, but she showed no sign of a smile of satisfaction or contentment, a glare still controlled her callous face.

Her Granddaughter reminisced the same gothic style the elder wore, but her large innocent stare broke through the gloom of the clothing. She perched by the Queens side, holding her rag doll tightly for ease, looking up at the dark-haired stranger that had walked into the chamber. A well-built figure that fitted tightly into a tattered blue uniform that represented what squadron he had originated from; to prove this was a silver crest that was stitched onto the right-side of his chest, the mark of the hawk, the badge of the departed Storm Hawks. The fashion of his clothes was not one of a Knight, but an unarmed outfit that followed the color scheme of brown and blue.

His short black hair was wet from the downpour of the storm that had occurred outside, a rainstorm that had come over the Terra once the battle had been won.

"Master Cyclonis," He kneeled in front of the Queen, his hand on his heart, "I serve you."

The traitor addressed the ruler with great respect, for he knew his place when in her presence. On closer inspection the clothes he wore had been torn and burned from the vicious crossfire, and the navy fabric that covered his right arm was soaked in blood, a possible sign that he had broken it during battle. He didn't seem affected by the pain that pulsed through his body, the smoke that had filled his lungs or the shots of the crystal blaster that still filled his eardrums. A man from war who had betrayed his own comrades, his own squadron, the entire Atmos for the Queen's growing empire.

The Terra rejoiced in triumph, which wouldn't have been possible if not for the bloodstained man that had the ability to destroy most of the invasion with a single sweep of a weapon.

"You." Though calm and composed, the Queen's voice had the underlining sound of authority. Behind her speech there was secondary voice in the background, a more darkening and demon-like presence behind the mature Empress. The outsider raised his head. He had such dark eyes that they seemed to have no pigment, just black orbs of an empty hollow of man that showed no signs of remorse or regret of what he had done. The battle had left him numb and emotionless. He was an empty shell that had lost all life. He blocked out the memories, the feelings, and the emotions, eventually drowning them and forgetting.

In his mind, showing emotion was a sign of weakness.

The silver-haired woman lifted her head, fascinated with the traitor. "Stand."

He complied with her command, and stood tall, squaring his shoulders and lifting his head in a bold stance. Yes, he didn't show the strain his body felt, but stood tall in front of the Queen. He was exceptionally talented for someone so young, even the Queen could see that, even if her army officers told her otherwise. Witnesses had seen what the ex Storm Hawk had done, how he performed his own signature move on the imposing invasion and reduced their rides to nothing but scrapmetal. To bring down masses of pilots and biplanes with one strike of a weapon and then destroy airships with such tactful skill was only a peek of what the man was capable of. The Empress lowered her voice to something less intimidating, "State your name."

"Tanner, your Majesty." He stated with a clear and unrecognizable voice. He no longer sounded like himself, but a complete stranger that had escaped from a darker part of him. Another persona that had taken over his physique with the idea of glory, power and faultlessness, a desire he hadn't always yearned for. A complete change of character, a harder and merciless man that had been hatched from an unknown source.

"You've come here," She lifted her hand and placed it on her chest, "To join me."

"Yes, your Majesty." He agreed, "I have seen that only Cyclonia can truly rewrite history. Can truly create law and order. Who really controls the power on Atmos."

A mere glance. That was what it took for the traitor to know of the small Queen's existence. The small girl sat on the edge of the throne, her head tilted with wonder at the youthful man, too young to understand his situation or reason for him to enter her home. Her dark eyes held nothing but curiosity and uneasiness. Too afraid to even keep her gaze on him she quickly buried her head into her Grandmothers finery, comforted by her smell and balminess.

"You shall be rewarded," The Empress said coolly, her arm wrapped around her Granddaughters shoulder possessively, her fingers playing with her short hair like a spin on a wheel.


End file.
